Orientation
by celestial1
Summary: The first time they met, it wasn't under the best of circumstances. Small but important spoiler for 4.05 'Dead and Unburied.'


**author's note.** After watching 'Dead and Unburied,' I got to wondering how exactly Jimmy and Michelle met. I know, the episode was a couple of weeks ago; the first half of this story came out rather quickly, but the second half got stuck in my brain between LeChatelier's Principle of Dynamic Equilibrium and my recipe for biscuits, and I had to stand on my head to knock it loose.

I had intended to write something with more of Michelle and Jimmy, their relationship, character backstory, etc., but this demanded to be written. Ducky cornered me and told me boring stories until I agreed to let him steal the show, dialogue-wise. He'll do that.

* * *

"They'll be here in ten minutes, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy Palmer said, pen poised expectantly above paper. "What's your wager?"

"Good heavens, is it Wednesday already?" Jimmy waited patiently as Ducky extracted his hands from a dead man's chest cavity and made his way across Autopsy to peer at the 'Pinup Babes of 1944' calendar. "Hm, I suppose it is. Don't know how it's crept up on me again. You see, I thought it was Tuesday because Mother was watching American Idol last night, and…"

"Really?" Jimmy turned around. "Who's she voting for?"

"None of them," Ducky explained. "As you might have guessed, she believes the whole lot of them are shameless hussies. Hm." He shook his head, returning to the question at hand. "Put me down for a combo platter."

"One puker and one fainter it is," Jimmy repeated, neatly copying down Ducky's prediction on the list. They were about neck-and-neck this year. "Three for me."

"Three?" Ducky raised his eyebrows. "My goodness, Mr. Palmer, we're feeling bold today." Jimmy grinned, and opened his mouth to respond. Apparently he didn't know better by now. "Now, which of our lovely guests shall do the entertaining today?" He strode over to the wall of drawers. "I believe Petty Officer Willis will do quite nicely."

Ducky began to pull the handle when Jimmy crossed the room and placed a hand on the drawer front. "Not fair, Dr. Mallard," he protested. "You picked the last time."

A smile crossed Ducky's face. "That's right, I did. Captain Sears, the poor man. Stung to death by bees. I do believe he set a new Probie Day record, didn't he. All right, then, Mr. Palmer, what's your choice?"

Jimmy faced the bank of drawers, brow creased, tapping his chin with one hand. "Ensign Roberts," he pronounced finally.

"Roberts?" Ducky echoed. "You're choosing eyes gouged out over near decapitation?" He smiled approvingly. "I do look forward to taking your lunch money, Mr. Palmer."

"You won't be doing it this time," Jimmy said mildly as he pulled the drawer. It was a particularly gruesome sight, as Ensign Roberts hadn't been discovered for a week.

"Then you'd better hope that none of our new probationary agents are former law enforcement officers," Ducky retorted.

The puzzlement on Jimmy's face cleared quickly; he had, after all, been working with Ducky for over two years. "Right, they don't puke because they -"

"As I recall," Ducky continued, "Agent DiNozzo earned Gerald Jackson quite a tidy sum of money. I was eating peanut butter sandwiches for a week, thanks to that iron stomach of his."

"Of course," Jimmy said, going back to his work.

* * *

The doors swished open and Agent DiNozzo strode in, followed closely by seven extremely Probationary Field Agents like a family of baby ducks. Six male ducklings and one petite female one.

Jimmy realized he had been working with Dr. Mallard for too long, when he saw everything in terms of ducks.

"Ah, good morning, Tony,"

"With Gibbs gone I got tapped for babysitting duty," Tony explained. "The upside, of course, is I get my pick of the litter." He jerked a thumb towards the anxious-looking bunch.

"We can hear you," the little one said. _She's cute, _Jimmy thought.

"Yes, I know that, Agent Lee," Tony retorted, but when he turned back to Ducky he was grinning. "So really, it's not so bad."

"Have you heard anything from him?" Ducky asked, dropping his voice almost to a whisper.

"No," Tony said. Two months and not a phone call, not an email, not a lousy 'Greetings from Mexico' postcard. "Nothing." And then the doors swished again and Tony was gone, leaving the seven probies at the mercy of the medical examiner.

It was all Ducky could do not to rub his hands in gleeful anticipation. "Mr. Palmer, the body, please."

The first one to do it was Agent Green, a fitting name considering the color he turned when Ensign Roberts' desiccated face was revealed. "Sorry," he mumbled, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

Jimmy thought for sure Agent Lee would lose it when the sheet was pulled the rest of the way back, revealing Roberts' body in _all_ its glory, but she disappointed him. She clenched her hands in fists at her side, she clamped her teeth shut, but she did _not_ puke. Ducky was telling an unrelated story - like there was any other kind - about a man who had been discovered floating facedown in an industrial vat of jelly. "Grape, I believe it was," he rambled, causing Agent Thompson - who had apparently eaten grape jelly and toast that morning - to make a mad dash for the garbage can in the corner of the room. And with that, Jimmy pulled into the lead.

Agent Lee winced when Ducky cut the Y-incision into the man's chest, and they all looked rather pale when he cut the man's heart and handed it to Jimmy to be weighed. Agent Morse swallowed hard when the chest was cracked - Ensign Roberts was, apparently, a heavy smoker, though if any of the probies were, they quit then and there - and Agent Duncan swayed menacingly but soon recovered.

Ducky cut out the man's liver and handed it to Jimmy. "To the scales, please, Mr. Palmer." And Jimmy didn't do it on purpose - he'd swear that to his dying day - but his gloves were slippery, and he fumbled. The disembodied liver landed at Agent Lee's feet with a wet 'splat.'

You really couldn't blame her for puking, after that.

* * *

Jimmy nearly collided with Agent Lee, rounding the corner in the hallway. She was just emerging from the ladies' room, having apparently splashed cold water over her face and looking somewhat the worse for wear.

"Agent Lee!" he exclaimed, straightening his glasses. "I'm so sorry about - about the-"

"Please don't say 'liver,'" she interrupted with disgust.

"Sorry about the _organ_," Jimmy managed. "It was an accident. I - I'm Jimmy, by the way."

"Michelle." She regarded him with suspicion.

Ducky's lunch money weighed heavy in the pocket of his scrubs. "Let me make it up to you," Jimmy offered. "I'll buy you lunch."

Michelle scowled. "After that, I'm not sure I'm ever going to eat again. We have to go _back_ after lunch."

"It's a lot worse if you don't eat," Jimmy assured her. "Trust me."

Michelle's face relaxed into a small smile. "Maybe a salad, then."


End file.
